


Beyond What's Known

by frozensea



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Rey is going to help him, Gen, Han wats to steal the Falcon, Heist, Making Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27829837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozensea/pseuds/frozensea
Summary: Han rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish expression. “Well, you see, things are a bit tense between us and the guy running the outpost. It's complicated. Better for us not to be seen until we get the lay of the land, so to speak.”Alarm bells rang inside Rey's head. “What do you want from Plutt?”“Know him, do you?”She hesitated. This was probably not the time to tell Han that she worked for him.“I live near the outpost,” she conceded after a moment.Han smiled. “Then maybe you can help us. Tells us a few things about what's changed in the past ten years. Your favorite watering holes, where to kick back and play a decent hand of Sabacc, Plutt's guard rotations on the airfield, that sort of thing.”
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9
Collections: Heart Attack Exchange 2020





	Beyond What's Known

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hmweasley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/gifts).



The desert was unforgiving.  
  
It had been one of the earliest lessons Rey had learned after she'd been left behind by her parents.  
  
Her new guardian, Unkar Plutt, had set her to work almost as soon as their ship had disappeared, pulling her toward a table beneath a sun-bleached canvas, where a wire brush, a bowl of water, and a crate of grimy, sand-crusted ship parts waited to be cleaned. The heat beneath the make-shift tent had been stifling, and the knowledge that the sun would be even crueler should she step out of its shade had been no consolation.  
  
She'd passed out around mid-afternoon on that first day. Too much heat, not enough water, and no respite from her work had taken its toll, and Plutt had cared little for her well-being beyond the inconvenience of the work not getting done.  
  
Not much had changed in the past ten years. She no longer slept at the outpost Plutt ruled with an iron fist but had sat up her own place in the carcass of one of the empire's old war machines. It wasn't much to look at, and the only reason Plutt allowed her to keep it was that it positioned her closer to the ships that had crashed here after the Battle of Jakku. She spent her days taking them apart, scrounging parts that could be sold and passing them on to Plutt in exchange for daily rations.  
  
It had been years since she'd passed out from the heat. She'd learned her lesson.  
  
The desert was unforgiving.  
  
It seemed oddly fitting to Rey, that ten years to the day after her parents had abandoned her, she'd be reminded of that.  
  
And if she passed out now, none of Plutt's overseers would be there to drag her into the air-conditioned comfort of Plutt's office and force water down her throat while Plutt berated her for wasting his time and costing him money.  
  
If she passed out this time, she would die.  
  
Rey bent over, bracing herself with one hand against her knee, while the other clutched at the stab wound in her side.  
  
The raiders had jumped her as she'd left the carcass of a crashed Star Destroyer.  
  
Her own fault. She should have known better than to let her guard down, but she'd found half a dozen pristine conductor coils in a storage compartment – a find that would have bought her enough food in trade to get her through the next month without having to worry about an empty stomach. She'd been impatient to get back to the outpost and hadn't paid attention to her surroundings.  
  
Though, even then, she'd deflected the first attack with her staff, had dodged a couple of blaster shots, broken one of her assailant's wrists, knocked out two more, and crushed the sternum of a forth before a vibroblade had slid between her ribs. She'd run then, abandoning her loot and dashing back into the bowls of the Star Destroyer, her feet stumbling in the sand that nearly two decades of wind and erosion had swept into the corridors.  
  
Her saving grace had been the fact that she knew the ship like the back of her hand. Years of scavenging parts had made her an expert in its layout that rivaled the knowledge of the original designers and engineers. She'd wriggled her way through crawlspaces, had climbed across debris, had even managed to ambush another raider when he'd gotten too close.  
  
However, by the time she emerged back into the open, sweat beaded her brow, even though she felt cold. Goosebumps covered her forearms, and shivers raked her body. Her mouth was dry, and a foul taste had risen to her tongue.  
  
The blade must have been poisoned.  
  
She slumped against the scorching ferroceramic of the Star Destroyer's hull without feeling the heat. Her vision swam before her eyes as she looked out across the sand dunes with a dull gaze.  
  
Ten years.  
  
That's how long she'd waited for her parents. Hoping, every day, that they would return and take her away from the desolation that was Jakku. Ten long, hard, miserable years.  
  
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.  
  
_And for what?_ she thought bitterly.  
  
She rarely allowed herself to be angry at her parents. It was easier to believe that they'd had no choice but to leave her behind. Brooding didn't put food into her mouth. But as she forced herself to push off the hull and move forward, as she listened for any indication that the raiders were still behind her, she let the fury boil up from her stomach and used it to propel herself toward the shadow of a small freighter up ahead.  
  
Standing still meant giving up. Falling down meant dying. She had nowhere to go but forward.  
  
Half-way across the open sand, she heard voices calling out behind her. She gritted her teeth and tried to move faster. The shot of a blaster missed her shoulder by inches. She stumbled, pushed herself back up, and dizzily tumbled towards the dark shape in front of her. She didn't know what she was going to do if she reached it. It almost certainly wouldn't make a difference. Behind her, the raiders fired off another shot. It went over her head and hit the tattered hull, punching through the metal.  
  
Her knees felt week. She'd almost reached the freighter when a sudden howl made her jerk away from the wreckage.  
  
A tall shape emerged from behind it.  
  
Rey blinked up at the furry giant who leveled a bowcaster at her head. Panic giving her new strength, she tried to turn around, but the surge of adrenalin was not enough to compensate for her injury. She teetered on her feet for a moment, like one of the townsfolk after a night in Plutt's tavern, then sank to her knees just as the bowcaster fired over her head.  
  
She could hear screaming, but it sounded far off in the distance. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears drowning out everything else. She sank back onto the hot sand, staring up at the bright yellow sun until the sky turned black.  
  
_I want more than this_ , she thought before she passed out.  
  


* * *

  
  
She woke up to a dark room and the muted sound of voices echoing off durasteel.  
  
The mattress below her was soft and the blanket that covered her warm, though the faint scent of sweat, sand, and engine grease told her that someone else had used it not too long ago.  
Gingerly, she brushed her hand over the wound at her side and found it bandaged. There wasn't much she could see in the darkness, but when she sat up and lifted the edge of the wrapping, a sharp, chemical smell stung her nostrils and almost make her gag.  
  
Bacta.  
  
Rey lay back down.  
  
Bacta was almost impossible to come by on Jakku. Rumors had it that Plutt kept a personal stash, but she'd never seen him use it. Out here, on the fringes of civilization, Bacta was worth its weight in kyber crystals, and Rey tried to wrap her head around the fact that someone had enough of it to waste it on her without demanding anything in return.  
  
Her stomach turned the longer she thought about it.  
  
Just because whoever had brought her here and treated her with it, didn't mean that their help was for free.  
  
Everything had a price.  
  
That had been another early lesson she'd learned on Jakku.  
  
She'd never gotten anything for free. The parts she traded, she came by through hard labor in hazardous conditions. The food that got her from one day to the next was haggled over by an increasingly stingy Plutt who even demanded a weekly fee to use the well at the outpost – the only source of water in a hundred-mile radius.  
  
There was no doubt in her mind that whoever had saved her from the raiders would ask for something in return. And it wouldn't be cheap. The life of a scavenger rat might be worthless to Plutt, but to her, it was the most precious thing she had, and the people arguing on the other side of her door undoubtedly knew that.  
  
Perhaps, she could sneak out. If she found a way off the ship, perhaps she could simply go back to her AT-AT, and live her life such, as it was, without them finding her. They didn't know who she was. She could simply disappear, secure in the knowledge that they would be unlikely to find her.  
  
_Because if I'd died, no one would have missed me._  
  
Rey blinked rapidly up at the ceiling.  
  
A hollow feeling spread through her.  
  
Even Plutt wouldn't have noticed for a few days, she realized. And once he had, he'd most likely written her off without another thought.  
  
_Because I'm just another scavenger rat. Useful, but replaceable._  
  
She rested her hand on the bandage around her middle. The wound must be all but healed. The only thing she felt was a mild ache, and the nausea had disappeared altogether. Turning her head, she noticed the silhouette of a glass on the nightstand by her bunk. She sniffed it before wetting her lips with what turned out to be cool, fresh water.  
  
Bacta and water. Whoever had brought her here deserved better than her running out on them. The least she could do was thank them for their help and hear them out on what they demanded in exchange for it.  
  
And perhaps, the price would not be too steep. Perhaps, she could pay it off by trading them parts. She would most likely have to go hungry for a while, but it wasn't as if she'd never done that before.  
  
The voices on the other side of the door fell silent, and Rey listened anxiously to the heavy footfalls that passed her room. As they faded, she became aware of the soft hum of a sub-light engine filling the silence.  
  
She sat up with a start. Her heart jumped into the throat.  
  
The ship was in flight.  
  
Panic rising, she was out of the bunk with her hand hovering above the door's touch panel before she was fully aware that she had moved. Fear constricted her throat.  
  
What if whoever had saved her had taken her off-planet? What if she was no longer on Jakku? What did these people want with her?  
  
And how were her parents ever going to find her if she didn't make it back home before they returned?  
  
She pressed her lips together. Only one way to find out.  
  


* * *

  
  
The smell of crispy bacon wafted through the corridor and led her straight to the cargo bay. In the center of the tiny room (the vessel on which they were must be a private shuttle designed for no more than two people), a human and a Wookiee sat on top of an assortment of crates, their legs wedged into the narrow spaces between them in order to avoid the open flame of the portable cooking unit that had been placed between them.  
  
Rey's mouth watered as she watched the Wookiee chop up something long and orange, which he then tossed into the pan.  
  
“Is that really necessary?” the human asked with a frown. “All that healthy stuff is just going to ruin the flavor.”  
  
The Wookiee growled softly.  
  
“Alright, alright. Do whatever you want.” The man must have caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye because he suddenly sat up a little straighter and turned to her with a smile.  
  
“Look who's up and walking. How're you doing, kid?”  
  
Rey took a cautious step into the room. Her eyes darted around for an escape route or weapon she could use. “I'm well, thank you.”  
  
The man chuckled. “So polite. Makes me feel like I'm back home with Her Highness.” He exchanged a glance with the Wookiee who tilted his head at her in a friendly way and hummed what she assumed was a greeting.  
  
“I'm afraid Chewie and I have gotten a bit used to rougher living again since we struck out on our own. I'm Han, by the way.”  
  
He looked at her expectantly.  
  
“Rey,” she offered with some reluctance.  
  
“Rey,” Han repeated. He nudged one of the crates with his foot, kicking it half an inch towards her. “Why don't you sit down, Rey? We're about to have lunch, even if there are far more vegetables in it that I'd like. You can tell us how you ended up here while we eat.”  
  
Rey didn't move. Sure, Han and – Chewie, was it? – seemed friendly enough, but she'd lived on her own for too long to be fooled by appearances. She only had to close her eyes to feel the heat in the air as the shot from the bowcaster whipped past her face. Taking a shot at the raider with her in the line of fire had taken skill and confidence. She'd be a fool to underestimate them.  
  
“Where is here?” she asked instead. A hooked metal rod leaned against the wall close by. It would take her no more than five steps to get to it, but could she make it before they pulled their blasters? Probably not. Her fingers clenched into fists.  
  
“You're onboard the _Bulwark_ ,” Han said.  
  
At her surprised look, he chuckled.  
  
“Yeah. She doesn't look very intimidating, does she? The previous owner had a flair for the dramatic. But she's fast and got us here in one piece, even if we have to flip cards to see who gets to sleep in the bunk and who on the floor.”  
  
The Wookiee growled again.  
  
“I do not cheat,” Han said with every appearance of offense. He turned back to her with a conspiratorial wink. “Don't mind Chewie, here. He's just gnarly because he's pushing two-hundred-fifty and doesn't want to admit that he's not a spry centenarian anymore who doesn't mind sleeping on the floor.”  
  
Chewie punched Han's shoulder. It might have been intended as a friendly shove, but Han toppled off the crate, his butt sliding into the narrow space between the one he'd sat on and the one behind, while his legs were still up on the former.  
  
Chewie howled with laughter at the undignified sight, and even Rey felt the corners of her mouth twitch before she smoothed them out again.  
  
_Don't be taken in by them_ , she reminded herself.  
  
“You're really getting old, if you can't take a joke anymore,” Han grumbled as he heaved himself back into a sitting position.  
  
“Where are we going?” Rey asked, bringing the conversation back on track.  
  
“The back of the moon,” Han said. “We're going to stay there for a few hours before we head back in to have a closer look at Niima after nightfall.”  
  
“Why can't you go now?”  
  
Han rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish expression. “Well, you see, things are a bit tense between us and the guy running the outpost. It's complicated. Better for us not to be seen until we get the lay of the land, so to speak.”  
  
Alarm bells rang inside Rey's head. “What do you want from Plutt?”  
  
“Know him, do you?”  
  
She hesitated. This was probably not the time to tell them that she worked for him.  
  
“I live near the outpost,” she conceded after a moment.  
  
Han smiled. “Then maybe you can help us. Tells us a few things about what's changed in the past ten years. Your favorite watering holes, where to kick back and play a decent hand of Sabacc, Plutt's guard rotations on the airfield, that sort of thing.”  
  
“Is that your price?”  
  
Han furrowed his brow. “Price for what?”  
  
“Saving my life,” she indicated the bandage around her middle. “The bacta.”  
  
Chewie made a low, soothing sound that reminded her of the sleepy snuffles of an awor. Han waved his hands dismissively. “Nah, kid. You don't have to worry about that. We couldn't very well let those bastards get you. Five against one. Not exactly a fair fight. You don't owe us anything for that.”  
  
Rey didn't believe him. People didn't work like that. Nothing was ever free. Ten years on Jakku had hammered that point home time and again.  
  
But her stomach constricted when Chewie tossed the food in the pan, and even though she couldn't be sure if her suddenly weak knees were a result of her hunger or a lasting effect of the poison in her system, she cautiously approached them and sat down on one of the crates. She still made sure that she was far enough away from them that even Chewie, with his enormous reach, wouldn't be able to grab her easily, but she never lost sight of the fact that sitting with them put her further from the hooked rod that she could have used as a weapon.  
  
“What do you want to know?”  
  
Even though neither of them had said it outright, she decided to view dinner as a transaction. Food in exchange for information. It was a fair deal and settled her stomach enough to accept the plate Chewie handed her with more eagerness than trepidation.  
  
“Oh, just some general stuff,” Han said.  
  
Rey spared him a skeptical look before she used her fingers to pop a strip of bacon into her mouth. The flavor exploded on her tongue, and she had to stifle a moan. It was no comparison to the bland taste of her usual portions – powdered nutrients that turned into a loaf of bread that tasted as gray as it looked. (Sometimes, she managed to trap scittermice and roast them on the open fire, but they tasted like nothing and had so little meat on them that they were barely worth the effort.)  
  
Chewie seemed to share her opinion on Han's obvious evasiveness.  
  
“What?” Han asked him. “I'm treading carefully.”  
  
Chewie howled impatiently.  
  
“You don't know that we can trust her. What if she goes running off to Plutt the second we land at Niima?”  
  
“I won't,” Rey mumbled around a full mouth. She meant it. As long as they let her go, she wouldn't rat them out to Plutt. It wouldn't be fair. Besides, it was none of her business anyway. She was a scavenger. She had work to do, and no desire to get mixed up in any more trouble. Just surviving was trouble enough on Jakku.  
  
Han gave her an assessing look. “I'm not the most trusting guy,” he said. “But Chewie here says he's got a good feeling about you, and you won't believe how grumpy he gets if he doesn't get his way, so I'm willing to stick my neck out here.”  
  
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Thing is, Plutt's got something that belongs to me.”  
  
“And you want to steal it back,” Rey finished for him. It wasn't so much a question as a puzzle piece that neatly slotted into place. Plutt wasn't known to let go of things that belonged to him. Not for a fair price, at least. And it wasn't a stretch for her to believe that whatever item Han was talking about wasn't one Plutt had come by honestly.  
  
“Not steal,” Han objected nevertheless. “It's more like a reacquisition.”  
  
Rey nodded along. “What did he take?”  
  
“My ship.”  
  
“He has lots of ships. Keeps an entire airfield full of them. Mostly junk he won gambling or took from people who got on his wrong side. He had me overhaul some of them before he flipped them for profit...” Rey trailed off when she saw Han's widening eyes. Realization struck that she'd just given something away that she hadn't meant to.  
  
“You work for him,” Han exclaimed.  
  
Rey looked down at her food. “I'm a scavenger. I bring him parts, and he gives me food in exchange. There's not much choice but to work for him, if you want to live near the outpost.”  
  
“Why do you want to live there?”  
  
“I have to wait for my parents.” Unwilling to continue the conversations and unwilling to contemplate why her eyes were stinging, she shoved more food into her mouth.  
  
The sudden caution in Han's voice put her on edge. “How long have you been waiting, kid?”  
  
Rey swallowed. “It doesn't matter. They'll come back eventually. And I'll be there when they do.”  
  
Chewie made a mournful sound and she was suddenly glad that she didn't understand any Shyriiwook.  
  
“I see.” Han shifted beside her. “No, I get it. It's very smart of you to stick around so they can find you. Very brave, too.”  
  
Rey jumped to her feet. The plate in her hands trembled. “Don't patronize me. They'll come back. I know they will.”  
  
The look Han gave her was so full of pity that it only made her angrier.  
  
“And what is it to you, if they do or not? You're just here to get your damn ship back, and then you'll be gone anyway. And you know what. I'll help you do it.” She wanted to run. Everything was better than staying here and having the two of them look at her like this. She'd never had anyone's pity, and now that she did, she hated it. She'd survived ten years on her own. She could survive another twenty if she had to, and it was no one's business but her own.  
  
“Now, kid. Slow down. You don't have to-”  
  
“It's a fair trade,” Rey said, her voice rising. “You helped me escape the raiders. I'll help you get your ship back. It's fair. I don't want charity. I'll help you.”  
  
Han and Chewie exchanged a look. Chewie made another low sound to which Han responded with a brief nod before he turned back to her.  
  
“Alright, kid. In that case, we'll gladly take your help. But while we're here, you might as well eat and give that bacta a few more hours to work its magic. That knife wound was poisoned, did you know? Kind of surprised that you're already up on your feet, to be honest.”  
  
The way he looked at her made her think that she'd come a whole lot closer to death than she'd thought. She slowly sat back down.  
  
“I'm stronger than I look,” she said mulishly.  
  
Han emptied the remaining food onto her plate. It didn't escape her notice that neither he nor Chewie took seconds, but she didn't say anything.  
  
“I'm starting to get that, kid. I'm starting to get that.”

* * *

  
  
Of course, things didn't go as planned.  
  
Though she'd never heard of the Millenium Falcon before, it was easy enough to identify the ship from the way Han described it for her. Plutt had dangled a week's worth of rations in front of her when he'd wanted her to pick it up at Batuu where he'd gotten it as recompense for a botched smuggling job in the Western Regions.  
  
Rey had spent every hour of that two day trip with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. The single night she'd spent in hyperspace, she'd woken in a cold sweat, tears running down her cheeks, the certainty that her parents had returned to Jakku to find her gone unshakably ingrained in her bones.  
  
She's pushed the engines beyond any safety limit to get back home, afraid that they'd think she had lost faith in them and would be gone before she returned. Plutt had given her little more than an irritated look when she'd inquired after them when handing over the ship, but Rey had been too relieved to feel disappointed. At least, they hadn't returned to find her gone.  
  
The ship had been relegated to one of the outer parts of the airfield where it continued to gather a crust of rust and sand for the next five years. Rey was almost sure that Plutt had all but forgotten it even existed. Helping Han steal it had looked like an easy feat.  
  
However, those hopes were dashed as soon as they entered the airfield.  
  
Chewie had set the tiny shuttle down on the outskirts of Niima, its bulk well hidden behind a sand dune. Rey had led him and Han down past the mechanic's huts and the run-down storage sheds where Plutt kept parts and tools that were no longer fit to use but might be worth foisting upon some hapless tourist who'd come to Jakku to view the great imperial fleet that had crashed on the planet. Rey saw a few groups of them come through town once or twice a year.  
  
The sun had set less than an hour ago, and lanterns lid the circumference of the airfield as well as the main thoroughfare where the commercial ships were parked on one side and a scarce scattering of private transports on the other. The distant sound of music drifted towards them, and Rey could hear two people arguing in the distance. The hulking shape of a luggabeast lumbered towards its paddock guided by the leash in Teedo's hand.  
  
Rey crouched low behind the shed and waited until the other scavenger had secured his mount and lost himself in the shadow of a lean-to on his way to the settlement's only tavern.  
  
“The ship you're looking for is the third one down the second row. It's covered by a tarp. If we stay close to the sheds, we should get to it without any of the guards seeing us. They rarely come back here. There isn't really anything worth stealing in this part of the field.” She added a hasty 'sorry' when Han looked downright offended at the idea that his ship wasn't worth stealing, but Rey had flown it five years ago, and it hadn't been in the best shape back then. She wouldn't take any bets on whether or not it was actually still flightworthy right now.  
  
But when they rounded the last of the sheds and snuck beneath the wing of an abandoned Pedorian yacht that Plutt had won off a tourist during a game of Sabacc, Han's hand suddenly snatched her back at the elbow.  
  
He and Chewie crouched low, forcing her down with them, while Han cursed softly.  
  
A moment later, Rey realized why. A group of people, clad in armor and rough leathers, made their way towards them.  
  
If they dashed towards the Millenium Falcon now, they would be seen. And to make matters worse, Rey recognized the two walking in front as Plutt's main enforcers. They were moving with purpose, and even as Rey still clung to the hope that they would move past them, they reached the Falcon and spread out around it.  
  
“You two stay here and guard her,” Kveto, Plutt's second-in-command, barked. “Tasch and I will walk the perimeter. Remember. You see that son of a bantha herder, you take him down. But don't kill him. Plutt wants a word. Though he won't care what shape Solo is in when he does, so don't be too gentle. Let him know what we consider hospitality on Jakku.”  
  
Rough laughter followed these orders as the men chuckled along.  
  
Han pulled her further back around the corner of the closest shed.  
  
“Someone must have tipped Plutt off,” he said grimly.  
  
“It wasn't me,” Rey said quickly.  
  
Han huffed a laugh. “I know, kid. Don't worry. I wasn't about to hang you upside down from the ankles. Not that I trust you, of course, but you didn't have a chance to let anyone know.” Turning to Chewie, he continued, “No, I bet it was Kanjiklub. I told you we shouldn't have asked after the ship. Didn't I tell you that was a mistake?”  
  
Chewie growled.  
  
“Oh, _you_ warned _me_ , did you?” Han snapped. “That's not how I remember it.”  
  
Chewie howled softly, which prompted Han to make a dismissive gesture, but it shut him up.  
  
Though she hadn't yet spent much time with them, to Rey it appeared that Chewie was the more level-headed of the two, while Han seemed more the type who abandoned plans as soon as he conceived them and went at problems with a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants attitude. She was willing to bet that Chewie had indeed cautioned him not to talk to Kanjiklub (whoever or whatever that was) and that Han had ignored that caution.  
  
And for all of his rugged, gruff, irritated, and distrustful demeanor, Rey couldn't help but get the impression that Han had a far softer heart than he was letting on. She didn't believe that he would have hung her upside down from the ankles, as he'd put it. In fact, she was almost sure that he would trust her if she asked him to.  
  
Which was why she decided to speak up.  
  
“If you want to get to that ship you need a diversion.”  
  
Han looked at her. “You look like you already have a plan, kid.”  
  
“Plutt usually spends his evenings in his office above the tavern. I could use your shuttle and stage an attack on his office. He won't expect that. No one here would dare to go after him directly.”  
  
“He'll have defenses in place to counter an aerial attack,” Han cautioned.  
  
But Rey only grinned. “I was on the crew who installed the most recent ones. I got a pretty good look at those that were already in place, and I'm a good pilot. I can keep him busy long enough for you to steal the ship. Most of those guards are going to run to protect him if I make a loud enough bang.”  
  
A large, furry hand clasped her shoulder, and Chewie made that low mournful sound again she'd heard while they'd been eating.  
  
Han nodded. “I don't like it. You helped us find the ship. That's enough. I don't want you to get hurt, kid.”  
  
“I can do this,” Rey snapped stubbornly. “You saved my life, it's only fair-”  
  
“That you risk it again because of this old bucket of scrap metal? No. It isn't worth it. Chewie and I will find another way.”  
  
Rey wasn't fooled.  
  
“You want to fight your way through them? Plutt has a hundred men to back up the dozen he sent here. There's no one in this town who's not going to do what he tells them to do. They wouldn't hesitate to turn you in. I'll actually be a lot safer in that shuttle than here on the ground.” When Han still looked dubious, Rey stepped right up to him. “I'm not a child. I know what I'm doing. If you want your ship back, you need to trust me.”  
  
Chewie nudged them both. Following his gaze, Rey saw another dozen men take up position along the low paddock fencing that separated the airfield from the settlement. Rey recognized the tall figure of Ajmi among them, who was a Telosian bounty hunter. She'd see the woman drag more than one full-grown man before Plutt without breaking a sweat. Her composure and self-assurance made her intimidating on a bad day, and Rey didn't want to chance a direct encounter with her in battle.  
  
Apparently, Han, too, had a change of heart when he took in Plutt's reinforcements.  
  
“Alright, kid. We'll go along with your plan. Chewie and I will wait here until you make it back to the shuttle and attack the tavern, but remember, don't take any unnecessary risks. If things get too dicey, you get the hell out of there, whether Chewie and I got the Falcon or not. If we both make it out, we'll rendevous out in the desert, where we first ran into each other, alright? And if we don't, you take the shuttle and run. Don't risk your life for us. Chewie and I knew that this wouldn't be an easy ride.”  
  
Rey considered arguing with him but quickly dismissed the idea. She was too afraid that any objection to Han's last instruction would make him change his mind again, and she could already feel her senses coming alive and the rush of adrenalin flood her bloodstream at the idea of doing something so daring, so outrageous...  
  
_I must be out of my mind_ , she thought even as she nodded at Han and sprinted towards the dune behind which they'd left the shuttle. _I'm going to attack Plutt's office_.  
  
Sure, she might not have any intention to kill him, but the very idea of it... She relied on Plutt for her survival. If he found out that it was here flying the shuttle... if she was shot down and brought before him... such an act of defiance would never be tolerated. If Plutt ever found out that she had helped Han and Chewie, she was as good as dead.  
  
But she didn't slow down. She never considered stopping. It was madness, but Rey felt a thrill of excitement run through her, and a certainty that she was doing something important – something that felt right – propelled her onwards.  
  
She slipped into the pilot seat and jotted the key card Han had given her into the access panel. The engines turned on with a low, familiar hum that reverberated inside her stomach.  
  
Within seconds, she was in the air, all lights turned off, her path taking her low across the dunes and out into the desert. Only when she was sure that she was far enough out that no one would see her, did she pull up into the cloudless night sky and return to town.  
  
A quick dive into the foot space had her loosen a panel and disabling the ship's transponder signal. She modified the shields to dampen the ship's heat signature, then broadcast an identification code used by Plutt's own people. The perimeter defenses remained inactive, and Rey was able to slip back into the airspace above town without anyone the wiser. She turned the external lights back on but made sure to leave the cockpit cloaked in darkness.  
  
Han and Chewie would see her approach, and so would Plutt's guards, but the latter would expect her to land on the commercial side of the airfield. They wouldn't catch on that something was wrong until she veered past the landing spots and headed towards town.  
  
Rey slowed her approach. She didn't want to give herself away too early. She meandered above the field, like an inexperienced pilot looking for a suitable spot to land. Her path brought her closer and closer to the edge of town.  
  
On the other side of the cockpit's transparisteel, she could see some of the guards move away from her, giving her more space. Ajmi towered above them, looking up at the still dark cockpit with irritation. It wasn't until Rey saw her raise a communication device to her mouth that she made her move. Stalling her descent to the ground, she jerked the ship to the right and zoomed across the fence.  
  
She couldn't hear the shouts that followed her, but before the airfield disappeared from view, she saw open mouths and alarmed expressions on Plutt's man.  
  
Her sub-light engines took her to the tavern in no time at all, but it wouldn't take long for Ajmi and Kveto to board their own vessels and come after her. A siren had already sprung up.  
  
Rey hovered in front of the tavern until she saw people emerging from the door and leaning out the window to see what the noise was all about. A moment later, Plutt's massive face appeared in the transparisteel two levels above them.  
  
Rey flicked the switch on her shuttle's single blaster cannon and shot the roof right off the building.  
  
People screamed and ran out into the streets. Rey ignored them. She could see Plutt crawling towards the door even as another one of his enforcers crashed in from the stairwell to help him. Blaster fire hit her ship but it wasn't powerful enough to do any serious damage. Her thumb hovered above the canon's activation button.  
  
It would be so easy to take Plutt out. Niima would be a better place without him. And she would finally be free.  
  
_Free to do what?_ She wondered, uncertainty lacing through her adrenalin-fueled euphoria. _What would I do if he were gone?_  
  
Her eyes followed Plutt as he lumbered through the door and down the stairs as fast as he could. She flicked the switch again and the canon returned to stand-by.  
  
A blast hit her ship, throwing her to the side. Instinctively, Rey wrenched the controls back and took the ship up high above the town.  
  
Proximity alerts went haywire and Rey barely avoided the shot of another laser canon. No less than four attack wings were on her tail. She dodged and weaved evading their fire as best as she could as she steered the ship out into the desert. Among the ruins of the lost fleet, she had a much better chance to get rid of her pursuers than out in the open.  
  
Her flight took her past the airfield, where the bright flashes of blaster fire illuminated the night. She saw Han and Chewie run towards the Falcon. The tarp that had covered it was already gone, but she didn't have time to see how many of Plutt's men had remained behind.  
  
Another shot hit her vessel, puncturing the hull just above the hyperdrive. Rey gritted her teeth and pulled the ship into a dive. She brushed along the top of a dune, scattering sand everywhere. She wasn't far from one of the downed Super Star Destroyers that she'd started to pick clean when she'd been barely ten years old. Not much of its interior was left, leaving her with enough space to fly through what remained of the main thrusters into the empty space of what had once housed the hyperdrive. She turned off her lights the second she passed the hull, throttled the engines, and turned into a sharp roundabout.  
  
Enemy ships whizzed past her, and Rey opened fire. She hit two of them, one spinning out of control against the walls and exploding into a fireball, while the other screeched across the ground and wobbled to a halt at the end of the engineering bay.  
  
The remaining two disappeared into the main corridor, but Rey knew that they would turn around and come after her as soon as they found a space large enough to do so.  
  
She turned back and flew out the way she'd come in. Keeping low to the sand, she aimed for a medical frigate that lay upside down not far away, but before she reached it, canon fire shot past her window and the ship exploded.  
  
Rey gasped. She wrenched the steering up and turned into a narrow loop. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.  
  
The ships behind her came closer. They were faster than her shuttle, and she wouldn't be able to outrun them for long. Turning back into a sudden dive, she headed back to the Star Destroyer. The same trick wouldn't work twice. She passed the thrusters and threaded the needle of the corridor. The walls on either side of her seemed to close in, but she didn't dare turn on the lights.  
  
The walls were briefly lightened by more cannon fire, then Rey wrenched the steering around again to take a sharp turn at the end of the corridor where a t-section only gave her two ways to go. She went left at break-neck speed. The lights of the other ships were gone for a moment, then the screech of metal reached her ears and they came back, though not as bright as before. One of the ships must have hit the wall. Ahead the corridor curved and Rey knew from memory that the way straight through had collapsed years ago. She'd have to make a right turn and she didn't dare slow down. And after that, another intersection loomed barely twenty feet after the first. If she made both turns, she could shake them off. But her timing would have to be perfect.  
  
Heart pounding and sweat beading her brow, Rey took a calming breath.  
  
_You can do this._  
  
She didn't know from where she took the certainty. She'd never steered a ship through such narrow spaces. It was lunacy. No one could take these turns without crashing, but she had to try. It was her only chance.  
  
The turn came up ahead, and Rey counted down in her head. _Two. One._  
  
She leaned into the turn, her whole body moving with the ship as she willed it around the corner. Immediately after she cleared it, she wrenched the ship to the other side into another turn. The engines whined. She could feel one of her wingtips scrape against the durasteel walls of the corridor. Blaster shots punched a hole in the wall ahead of her, but then she was around the turn and the entire ship shook as the last two attack fighters crashed through the walls beside her and disappeared in a cloud of fire.  
  
_I did it._  
  
A fierce feeling of pride filled her chest. She slowed down, just enough to make her path through the corridors reckless rather than suicidal.  
  
_I actually did it._  
  
She couldn't believe it.  
  


* * *

  
  
Han and Chewie were waiting for her behind the tattered freighter where they'd saved her life. The Millenium Falcon was parked in the valley between two large sand dunes, leaving her with just enough space to set down beside it.  
  
“You made it, kid.” Han looked relieved to see her, and it made her chest tight. She wasn't used to people caring whether she was alive or dead.  
  
“So did you.” She ran over to them, the smile still on her face.  
  
She was glad to see them. That wasn't so much a surprise but how strongly she felt that relief was. She tried not to care too much about other people. It only made it harder to watch them leave, and Han and Chewie were already on their way out.  
  
_And who can blame them?_ she thought. _Why would anyone want to stay here?_  
  
Han's earlier question came back to her. It made her stop in her tracks. Her smile faltered.  
  
_Why do you want to stay here?_  
  
She shook her head.  
  
_My parents. I'm staying so my parents will find me_ , she reminded herself. But for the first time, she couldn't quite convince herself that it was the truth.  
  
“Chewie and I could use another pilot,” Han said, and it surprised her so much that she took a step back. “The old guy says it would give us both more time to sleep.”  
  
Chewie patted her on the back and howled softly.  
  
Whatever he'd said, it made Han smile.  
  
“Are you offering me a job?” Rey asked. Her mind was reeling. She couldn't leave with them. Jakku was her home. Her parents would miss her if she wasn't here.  
  
And yet, she was taken aback by how badly she wanted to say yes.  
  
“There no riches in it,” Han said with a self-effacing shrug. “But we earn enough to get by, and we could ask around for your parents if you want.”  
  
Rey looked from him to Chewie then at the Falcon and back at Han. She felt rooted to the spot. Her heart wanted to say yes, but her feet refused to move.  
  
“I would appreciate that,” she finally said, and before Han could misunderstand, she continued. “If you asked around after my parents, I mean. And if you find them, please tell them...” She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Tell them that I miss them and that I'm waiting for them to come back.” She took a step back. Her arms hung limply to her side. “Right here. Where they left me.”  
  
Her throat closed up.  
  
Han's shoulders slumped. “I understand.”  
  
_Don't leave me,_ Rey thought. But she didn't say it out loud. She was too busy fighting the sudden burning in her eyes.  
  
The fact that Chewie bent down to give her a brief hug didn't help.  
  
“Well, kid. It was good to meet you.” Han gave her a sad salute.  
  
Rey attempted a smile. She suddenly felt cold. It was a cold that came from within rather than the desert night.  
  
“Maybe we'll see each other again. Some day.”  
  
“Yeah. Maybe we will.”  
  


* * *

  
  
She watched the Falcon take off. Now that no one was watching, tears fell freely across her cheeks.  
  
_You're a fool,_ she berated herself. _You've known them for less than a day, and here you are latching on to them like a helpless child and crying because they left. You don't need them. You don't need anyone._  
  
She stomped back to the shuttle and returned to her AT-AT. Back home, she left the shuttle inside the hull of a decaying yacht, and by the time she sat down on her cot the sky was lightening.  
  
She stared morosely at the remaining rations in her cupboard – a small wooden crate she'd taken out of a freighter's cargo hold – and calculated if she could afford to spend most of the day asleep or not.  
  
_Don't waste what you don't have_ , she decided before she got up and rubbed a hand across her tired face to wipe the last tear tracks away. Then she headed out to her speeder. Another day's work lay ahead of her.  
  


* * *

  
  
Months passed with little alteration to her days. She got up in the morning, wolfed down a meager breakfast, and spent the day scavenging the Star Destroyer she'd chosen as her hunting ground the day the raiders had jumped her. She'd found the bodies they'd left behind and buried them more to keep predators away rather than to afford them any dignity.  
  
The survivors had taken the coils that had been her prize with them, and the compartment where she'd found them had been picked clean. But the Star Destroyer proved to be in remarkably good shape considering how long it had lain here, and Rey suspected that while it had obviously been raided, it must have been buried during a sand storm at one point because there were enough valuable parts left that no scavenger would have left behind voluntarily.  
  
She made sure to bring the parts she found back to Plutt as late as possible. The fewer people saw her do it, the longer it would take the other scavengers to figure out that she'd found something worth picking over, and she didn't want any competition. At least not as long as she could prevent it.  
  
She also made sure that no one followed her when she left her home in the morning or waited for her to come back in the evening. She wouldn't let another raiding party get the better of her.  
  
She often thought about Han and Chewie. She didn't want to, and during the day, when she was working, it was easy enough to push her doubts about leaving aside, but when she went to bed they always came back to her, and she couldn't help but wonder what her life would be like right now had she gone with them.  
  
Sometimes, she allowed her imagination to wander and thought of the three of them undertaking daring adventures, sometimes she thought about all the places they'd visit, all the planets she's only heard of but never seen. And sometimes, she thought about them sitting around a fire and eating food and joking around. Han smiling at her and Chewie giving her a hug, and on those nights, she cried herself to sleep.  
  
One day, while she was taking a break, she wandered through the abandoned corridors of the Star Destroyer making random turns and levering doors open when she came across the crew quarters.  
  
It was a rare find to see them not looted, but the room in which she stood was full of clothes and mattresses that had fallen out of the bunks. Personal nicknacks were strewn all over the ceiling which was now the floor, and holoframes with enough power left to show the flickering images of loved ones. Rey set aside a few blankets for her personal use when she came across a drawer containing a datapad.  
  
It seemed intact, so she took it with her, and after she'd traded the days spoils to Plutt (He'd started charging higher prices for food rations again, and the whole outpost was grumbling about it.) she sat down and hooked it up to the power banks she'd charged in town. It had cost her a week's portions, and cost her more than half a day's deliberation to actually do it, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her.  
  
And it had paid off. Without an uplink to the holonet, for which she had neither the credits nor the access (Plutt would never allow it) she only had the data that was already stored on the datapad, but that proved to by a treasure trove of knowledge. She found history files on the device, schematics for the imperial fleet (which she only skimmed over, because they didn't hold much interest for her), and banks of language files that she studied with interest. She didn't know much about the empire safe for their ships, but she had heard someone mention once that they didn't encourage studying languages, but rather expected the galaxy to speak basic.  
  
Rey's fingers flew across the screen and she gave a small gasp of delight when she found a file on Shyriiwook.  
  
She put the datapad down onto her knees.  
  
She could learn to speak Shyriiwook. Of course, it was unlikely that she would ever see Chewie again, but maybe, just maybe... She swallowed the last bite of her food and looked down at the unfamiliar letters.  
  
It couldn't hurt to try, she decided with a new sense of determination. It wasn't as if she had anything to lose.  
  
But first... She swiped across the screen and entered a search for the Millenium Falcon. A smile spread across her face.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Just let me do the talking, okay?”  
  
“There's nothing left to say. We're going to go in there, hand over the merchandise, get the money, and get the hell out of dodge, Dameron. He's just going to think you're trying to trick him if you start sweet-talking him.”  
  
“I'm not trying to sweet-talk anyone. But we both know there's more than bacta in that crate, and whatever it is it's probably worth a whole lot more than what we agreed on.”  
  
“I don't care. We agreed to do a job. We did the job. It's time to get paid. Getting in trouble with Plutt isn't worth it. Not unless you brought reinforcements, which, if you hadn't noticed, yet, we didn't.”  
  
Rey kept her eyes studiously cast on the wire brush and the bowl of water in front of her. The voices didn't sound familiar, but as she listened to the heated conversation going on beyond the tent flap, she realized that they wouldn't be.  
  
Probably another crew of smugglers coming through. Not worth the trouble paying attention to them normally, though the fact that they were taking a batch of bacta to Plutt was interesting. She wondered why he needed it. As far as she knew, Plutt hadn't sustained any injuries, and she couldn't picture him handing it out to even his most trusted enforcers.  
  
Plutt didn't have a family. He didn't even have friends. So he was probably going to sell it to someone else. Which meant that it was none of her business.  
  
The voices grew lower until she couldn't hear them anymore, and Rey returned her attention to the parts she'd been cleaning.  
  


* * *

  
  
It was close to sundown by the time she made it to Plutt's trade post.  
  
She placed the parts she'd fond that day in front of him, but he barely glanced at them.  
  
“I have a job for you,” he grunted instead.  
  
Turning him down would be dangerous, but taking whatever job he had for her was often even riskier. She'd take her chances with another hike in prices before she risked her life.  
  
“I'm only here to trade today.”  
  
Plutt gave her offering a cursory glance. “Not interested.”  
  
Rey gaped at him. “What do you mean? Those are prime conductor coils. They're worth at least ten portions each.”  
  
Plutt leaned across the sill to look down at her. “They're worth nothing to me and even less to you if you don't take the job. Who else are you going to sell them to, eh?”  
  
Rey gritted her teeth. The answer was 'no one' and he knew it. Even if she tried to approach one of the passing traders or tourists, they would all be too afraid of Plutt to take her up on the offer.  
  
“What's the job?”  
  
“Come with me.”  
  
He motioned her to the back of his post, where two guards made her wait until he emerged from the dark den. He'd doubled his security since the night she'd blown the roof off his office. It had been replaced within a day, but the incident had left Plutt shaken. New security measures were undertaken, and it wasn't unusual for Rey to walk past half a dozen roaming guards if her work kept her at the outpost after nightfall. And even during the day, their presence could be seen.  
  
Three gun turrets had been installed close to Plutt's home and office, and Rey congratulated herself that she'd decided to bury the shuttle with which she'd flown the attack the day after Han and Chewie had left. So far, no one had found it, and Plutt blamed the entire incident on Han Solo.  
  
She followed Plutt, very aware of the guard's scrutiny behind her. Upon entering his office, Rey became aware of two other people in the room. One was a human male with curly hair and a worn leather jacket draped across one shoulder, while the other was humanoid and female, though the helmet she wore left Rey to guess to which species she could belong.  
  
“Look who's here. Has no one ever told you that it's rude to keep people waiting?” the man said.  
  
“Dameron,” the woman said warningly, and Rey recognized the voices of the two people from this afternoon.  
  
Neither of them was armed, though the holsters at their hips told Rey that they had been before Plutt's guards had let them into Plutt's office.  
  
“You need to teach your new associate how things work around here,” Plutt said gruffly as he eased himself into his cushy chair. “Or I will do it for you.”  
  
“That won't be necessary.”  
  
“We'll see, Bliss. You got the goods?”  
  
The woman – Bliss – lifted a metal briefcase onto the desk.  
  
Plutt opened it. “Any troubles on your way?”  
  
“No, it was smooth sailing.”  
  
“Good.” He snapped the case shut again. “The girl will take you to Di's stuff. With my compliments.” He gave them a toothy grin.  
  
Dameron stepped forward. “Hold on. What stuff? We were told we'd get paid on delivery.”  
  
“You are. Rinnrivin Di wants to trade some imperial artifacts I came across. This is my payment. Bacta is worth a lot around here, you know?”  
  
Dameron nodded sarcastically. “Bacta. Right. I'm sure that's what that is. What about _our_ payment?”  
  
Plutt shrugged. “He'll pay you when you get the artifacts back to him. Nothing to do with me.”  
  
He motioned Rey over. “Take them to the Challenger. You remember the place?”  
  
Rey, who had watched the exchange with silent fascination, nodded her assent.  
  
“Good. Be quick about it. I want them gone by daybreak. You can sell your parts to me in the morning, and you'll get a couple extra for services rendered.”  
  
A muscle in her cheek twitched. Two portions weren't a lot, but then again taking Dameron and Bliss out to one of the Star Destroyers that littered the desert wasn't really a hard job, nor a dangerous one. It could be worse.  
  


* * *

  
  
'I'm Poe,” Dameron said once Rey boarded the freighter he and Bliss had parked on the airfield. He slid into the pilot seat and prepared the vessel for take-off. “This is Zorii.”  
  
“She really doesn't need to know our first names, Dameron.”  
  
Zorii sighed. She still hadn't revealed her face, though the heat beneath it must be stifling. The collar of her skin-tight jumpsuit was damp with sweat.  
  
Poe shrugged. “It makes things easier. What's your name, kid?”  
  
Rey flinched. No one since Han had addressed her that way, and she was surprised how much she'd missed it. She also resented it. It was one thing for Han to call her 'kid.' He was old enough to be her father. But Poe was not that much older than her, ten years at the most.  
  
“My name is Rey, not 'kid,'” she said defensively.  
  
Poe gave her a crooked smile. “Gotcha. Nice to meet you, Rey.”  
  
Zorii scoffed and sat down in the co-pilot chair. “Aren't you polite today?”  
  
“Good manners are free, darling. There's no reason you can't afford them.”  
  
“My name is Zorii, not 'darling,'” Zorii shot back, which Poe acknowledged with a wry smile.  
  
“Alright, alright. I get it. I'm outnumbered two to one. I'll behave.”  
  
Zorii turned to her. “Occasionally, he's smarter than he looks.”  
  
“Thanks.” Poe's answer was dry. He started the engine and they lifted off. “Now, where to, Rey?”  
  
Rey gave him the coordinates which prompted Poe to give her a considering look across his shoulder.  
  
“You're a pilot.” It wasn't a question.  
  
“I am.”  
  
“So you're _that_ Rey.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“A couple of acquaintances came through here about a year ago. They said you helped them get back an item of particular value.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” This time it was Zorii who asked the question, while Rey felt herself flush hotly.  
  
“You know Han and Chewie?” she blurted out.  
  
Zorii crossed her arms. “You know Han Solo and Chewbacca?”  
  
Poe shrugged. “Han's an old buddy of my dad's.”  
  
“He's a general in the New Republic,” Zorii said, and her tone indicated that she thought nothing good about the title or the government. “What's your dad doing knowing people like that?”  
  
“What you have to understand about Zorii is that she's the most suspicious person I know,” Poe said with a conspiratorial wink. “She doesn't trust anyone. I've been working with her for two years. Saving her life left, right, and center, but at the first mention of an old friend of my dad's she immediately suspects the worst. Probably thinks I'm a spy for the New Republic now. Didn't get dishonorably discharged after all. No, it was all a ruse to rat her out to the government and get her arrested. Because they really care about her and her two-bit smuggling operation. Super important, Zorii Bliss is. The scourge of the galaxy. The meanest, baddest, most bad-ass smuggler the Inner Rim has ever s– Ouch. Easy on the shoulder, darling. That's my shooting arm. I might need to use it later.”  
  
“Oh, do shut up. It was a perfectly reasonable question.”  
  
“My dad knew Solo because Solo used to be a spice runner, just like you, dear. And I have it on good authority that he's gone back to the old life, now that his marriage to Senator Organa has gone bust.”  
  
Rey couldn't be sure – she didn't know Poe, after all – but her gut told her that he was upset about something and didn't want them to know.  
  
Zorii tilted her head. “Huh. Interesting.”  
  
“And this young lady over there helped him out of a tight spot last year. She helped him get the Falcon back. He said you were very brave.”  
  
Rey flushed with pleasure. “Do you know where he is?”  
  
The question had left her mouth before she'd thought about it, but now that it was out in the open she realized how desperately she wanted an answer.  
  
“Pretty sure I could find out. Why? You looking for him?”  
  
Here it was. Her chance to leave. All the past year, she had dreamed about life beyond Jakku. She hadn't been ready to give up on her parents when she'd met Han and Chewie. It had taken the loss of them to make her realize how much she wanted to leave. And even then, months had passed before she'd admitted it to herself.  
  
She'd stopped carving marks into the walls of her AT-AT. After the first week she'd felt so guilty about it that she'd filled them in, all in a rush, fainter than the others, and once she'd been done, she'd been so mad at herself that she'd slashed through all of them, scratched her stencil across the metal as if she could erase them all, almost eleven years worth of counting.  
  
It had been another one of those nights on which she'd cried herself to sleep.  
  
But here was her chance to make sure that it had been the last one.  
  
If Poe could help her find Han and Chewie, and if they still wanted her as a pilot...  
  
The future suddenly held a spark of hope.  
  
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this scared. “I would like to know where to find them.”  
  
She was done waiting for her family to return. Instead, she was going to take a chance and find the people she hoped to call friends.  
  
She was going to leave Jakku behind. It was time.  
  
  
  
  



End file.
